


Hand-Made Guitars And Hand-Guns

by EdmondJames_Dantes



Series: Evil Author Day (more like Exhausted Author needs a place to dump stuff he's not continuing) [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Aftermath of Violated Privacy, Disability, Established Relationship, Family, Friendship, Insecurity, Introspection, Love, M/M, Outed Without Consent, Popstar!Gibbs, Sexuality, Tony's still NCIS, musician au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 06:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18987415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdmondJames_Dantes/pseuds/EdmondJames_Dantes
Summary: The video was put up on the internet by some anonymous source late Saturday night, had over a million hits on the main free porn site by Sunday evening, and the 'news' was plastered all over the world by Monday morning, when Tony had to get up to go to work, turn on his phones again (just for them to start ringing again), and finally face the music.





	Hand-Made Guitars And Hand-Guns

 

 

Tony considered calling in sick, but given that he had turned up for work only one week after having had the literal plague, he didn't think any of his co-workers would buy it, and anyway, he wasn't a coward.

So Tony put on his best _Touch me and die_ suit, knelt down beside the bed to let Gibbs knot his black silk tie around his neck and stroke his hair and tell him, "You've got this," pressed a kiss to Gibbs's jaw in thanks, and lastly he pushed up his designer sunglasses so no-one could see the fear, or the _anger_ , in his eyes.

Finally ready to go, and just to show off how completely unashamed he was, Tony chose Gibbs's infamous, bright yellow, _Dodge Challenger_ , to drive to work, directing the muscle car carefully through the crowd of asshole journalists around the exit of his apartment building's car-park, and revving the engine in frustration as they bubbled around him.

Tony made it to work in one piece, and without losing his temper or breaking the speed limit to escape the paparazzi vans trailing behind him. Unfortunately, all of the vermin also made it to the Navy Yard, but he grinned happily when, in his rear-view mirror, he saw the guards stop them at the gate and refuse them entry.

He parked his car and made it through internal security alright. Well, for the most part. One of the security guards took an excessive amount of pleasure in looking him up and down and grinning lasciviously. She licked her lips as she eyed Tony's crotch, and her gaze lingered and leered at his butt as he walked past. Just before putting his sunglasses back on, Tony gave her an disdainful glare - which only made her grin wider - before striding off to the elevator, being sure to keep his spine straight and shoulders back.

Furious, Tony stepped into the empty elevator and pressed the button for the bullpen, waited for the elevator to get moving and then slammed his palm down on the stop button to halt the box between two floors. Safe for the moment, Tony slipped his sunglasses into his pocket and buried his face in his hands, breathing heavily.

_The problem is,_ thought Tony, _is that everyone - absolutely everyone - knows that I'm a Leroy Jethro Gibbs fan_ , _and now they know that I'm a fan of getting naked and hot and sweaty with him._ He rubbed his eyes hard, holding back the urge to punch the wall.

He hadn't bothered keeping quiet his love for Gibbs's music since the iPod first came out a decade and a half ago. Not when being a well-known fan of music, particularly of Gibbs's music, allowed him to listen to his partner's songs in his ear-buds when he was at his desk, writing reports, with no-one the wiser, no-one giving him any grief or special attention for it. Plenty of agents had their own little quirks for surviving all the paperwork and listening to music was hardly eccentric.

Tony huffed, then took a long, deep breath. He supposed it was to be expected that people would look at him differently now that they knew he'd fucked a well-known public figure, especially one whom he'd never been shy about praising _. Not that that justifies ogling at my dick and ass, the bitch_ , thought Tony, disgruntled.

He wouldn't normally mind the attention, would normally even find it a source of pride, but right now it was just another reminder of how his privacy had been violated - a privacy he'd never expected to lose. Somehow, he'd never really believed that their relationship would ever come out of the closet.

Prior to the repeal of Don't Ask Don't Tell, Gibbs had been adamant that keeping quiet was necessary for Tony's safety, given that NCIS agents often worked closely with the military. The US Navy and Marine Corps weren't exactly known for their open-mindedness, and Tony had trusted that as a former marine, Gibbs knew what he was talking about. More-so after he had seen for himself some of the gay bashings and hate crimes perpetuated against marines and sailors _by_ marines and sailors.

Tony had harboured the desire to be able to do regular, boring couple stuff with Gibbs, like grocery shopping together or eating out at a restaurant together, holding hands in public. But even after DADT had been trashed, Gibbs's rise in fame had put the kibosh to that. Still, Gibbs had more than made it up to him with their many trips. Often in summer they would travel and anchor their yacht in little bays and foreign shores where nobody would recognise them, and they could kiss whenever and wherever and not receive a second glance.

It had been enough.

The loneliness at work that came with lying had been balanced by his team-mates turning on the radio in the car to sing-along to love songs that had been written and sung just for _him_ , and late nights full of dull and difficult paperwork had been made better with Gibbs's voice crooning Maroon 5's _Can't Stop,_ and the knowledge that _he_ was the lucky man who got to go home to the handsome guy singing it.

When Tony was far from home and the days were tough, full of dirt and violence and blood, it had been made just a little bit easier by being able to plug in his ear-buds and hear his partner singing, _'Everything's gonna be alright, rockabye, rockabye_ ', and know that eventually he'd be held in safe arms and lulled to sleep with the real thing. All the nightmares would be scared away by the fully trained marine who, even with a bad knee, could still fight like _hell_ : dirty hits to the groin, unfair upper body strength, and biceps that could literally choke a man to death ( _Not_ that Tony had a _thing_ for Gibbs's arms).

It had been difficult, but worth it.  Tony had been _happy_.

So he'd just assumed it would always be like that, that their relationship would always be a secret. Between Gibbs's well-known reserved nature and Tony's undercover op. skills, and most people's general understanding that lots of people loved music and had favourite bands or artists, there had never been much fear of slipping up.

Most people would never think that _a fan_ would actually be the partner of a professional musician. Certainly no one would think twice that a male fan could be the secret lover of a world famous pop-star, not when the pop-star was a supposedly straight, classic All-American man.

A pop-star who, based on his faded t-shirts, war-torn jeans and hand-made guitar, had little in common with  Tony's city-slicker suits, dangerous job, and workaholic hours. But then, most people forgot that Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been a marine sniper before the explosion that had fucked his knee so badly he couldn't pass the mandatory physical of any military or law enforcement job.

_Of course,_ thought Tony, _Gibbs just isn't the sort to be happy with deskwork unless it involves  building the damn desk._ These days Gibbs staggered around wielding an elegant oak crutch or, on bad days, he zoomed around in his wheelchair, one made with sports in mind so that he and Tony - with Tony in a twin wheelchair - could play basketball together at the local YMCA courts. But he was never doing _nothing_ , always working on something or other, be it music or wood.

Tony sighed.

He was stalling in his reminiscing.

But there was no helping it, he couldn't hide out in the elevator all day. Either his team and co-workers would accuse him of sleeping with Gibbs for the attention and novelty of sleeping with a pop-star whose music he'd been a fan of, or they would realise that despite the many stories he'd told over the years, no-one had ever actually _met_ any of his so-called one-night-stands.

Tony pressed the red button and sighed again as the elevator surged back to life, heading up to the bullpen.

The elevator _dinged_ and he walked out to see his team was crowded around his desk: Ziva was standing in front of it, facing away from him with her hands on her hips; Tim had rolled his chair over and was fiddling with a pen; and Ellie was leaning back against the filing cabinets, and even in the distance Tony could see the worry on her face.

Abby was standing with Ziva and Jimmy had stolen Tony's chair, not unusual, but it was the addition of both Ducky and Leon standing around his desk, and the serious expressions on their faces, that brought a sinking feeling into Tony's gut.

No-one had looked over at the elevator's noise to see who had entered, and Tony drew to a stop, reluctant to get any nearer to them when the conversation was _about him_.

But Ellie noticed him out of the corner of her eye and straightened up, turning to him and biting her lip.

Everyone slowly caught on and turned around. They were quiet as they stared at him.

"Hey people!" said Tony brightly. "Everyone have a good weekend?" Inwardly he winced; he was over-compensating by _way too_ _much_.

Vance raised an eyebrow. Ducky pursed his lips. Tim and Ellie exchanged a quick glance they both probably thought was subtle, and Ziva huffed in irritation at his playing-dumb routine.

Abby let out a cry, _"Tony!"_ and ran at him.

Tony took one instinctive step back, hands coming up a little, and then she was barrelling into him, her long arms wrapping around him and hugging him hard. Tony grunted, air whooshing out of his lips as his ribs were all but broken in her crushing embrace.

"Abby!" rumbled Tony, irritated and comforted and unable to breathe all at once.

Abby pulled back just far enough to look him in the eye and her words poured out like a flood: "I'm so _so_ sorry, Tony, that someone invaded your privacy and filmed you and your boyfriend in a private moment, and posted it online and outed you without your consent, and now everyone knows because Leroy Jethro Gibbs is so famous that he's practically a household name but you've always been so private, always putting on a show but keeping the personal stuff close to your vest, and this must be agony for you and I'm really, really sorry this has happened to you, Tony!"

Did she even need to breathe?

Abby pulled him into a hug again and squeezed him tightly.

Tony closed his eyes. Relief washed over him. _She doesn't care._ He'd _lied_ to her, to everyone, for _years_ , and she didn't care, didn't see it as a betrayal - or maybe she just cared so much about _him_ that the betrayal didn't matter to her - or maybe she'd be upset later, but it didn't matter, because right now, in the moment when Tony needed his friends the most, Abby Sciuto loved him enough to put him first.

"Thank you, Abby," breathed out Tony, hugging her back hard. _"Thank you."_

"No one deserves to be exposed like that unless they  choose it, Tony-boy, but especially not you," whispered Abby into his hair. Calmed down just a bit, she squeezed him one last time and withdrew. "We're going to find whoever did this to you, and we're going to make them regret ever being born!" Her eyes were wet but no less fierce for it.

Tony swallowed hard, a lump in his throat, and nodded, speechless in the face of her rock solid support.

"Really, DiNozzo?" interjected Leon, his nose crinkling in disgust. "You could have anyone you wanted, man or woman or whoever, and you choose someone who sings _pop_ music?"

Tony blinked, stunned. "Shut up, Leon!" A grin stole over his mouth.

"I thought you had at least _some_ standards," grumbled Leon, but he had a smile curving his lips. "Rock 'n roll, classical, or even jazz. The blues," he added thoughtfully.

"There's nothing wrong with pop music, Leon. Why, I myself am a fan of Stevie Wonder," said Ducky. He turned to Tony with a warm smile, "Dear boy, I could not be happier to hear that you have finally found someone to love."

"Well," said Tony, smiling lopsidedly, nervously, and told the truth: "There's not really any _finally_ about it. Gibbs and I found each other years ago."

Ducky blinked at him, stunned. "Then my congratulations, Anthony. I'm sorry that you did not feel you could share this with us."

Tony's smile froze and faded.  "I'm sorry, Ducky, it wasn't personal. Please don't take my silence on this matter as a disregard for the friendship you've given me over the years."

Ducky stared at him for a long, quiet moment.

Tony's heart thumped loudly and flipped painfully in Ducky's quiet contemplation.

Finally, Ducky sighed. "My dear Anthony, I am most happy that you have someone to love, whether you found him days ago or years ago, and I forgive you for any deception which you may feel requires my forgiveness, but please know that I feel you have nothing to forgive."

Ducky paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I meant it most sincerely when I apologised, as I believe we all bear some responsibility for the environment we foster, be it good or ill, and I am truly sorry that I have not done more to make the world - or at least, our little part of it - a safer place for a young man to be open and honest about whom he loves. I am especially sorry, when that young man is someone whom I consider family."

Tony's mouth opened and closed, and he had to look away, embarrassed by the proud affection. "I'm not exactly a young man anymore, Duck," he muttered, but he walked over and pulled Ducky into a brief, one-armed hug.

Ducky hugged him back and patted him on the shoulder, and everyone kindly ignored the wet shine on both Tony's and Ducky's eyes.

"Well then, you'd definitely better bring this Leroy Jethro Gibbs around so we can make sure he's good enough for you," said Ellie firmly, grinning delightedly at him. "Especially if you're settling down into old age with him!"

Tony swung around. "I don't need any permission!" he spluttered. "And just because I'm not young _doesn't mean I'm old!"_

"I second vetting the guy, I'll run the background check!" chimed in Tim, smiling widely.

"Timothy!" snapped Tony, aghast. "For god's sake."

"I can't wait to meet him, Tony," added Ziva sincerely.

"Well at least someone here is capable of behaving reasonably." Tony shook his head, but a shy smile emerged even as he tried to tame it.

"Well this someone is going to have to give your man the spade talk," said Ziva, snickering, "Tim and Ellie could not intimidate a mouse!"

The bullpen erupted into outraged exclamations and laughter.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually pretty happy with this story, it could do with a bit more meat on its bones, but I really like this little AU world I've created. I hope you like it too :)
> 
> Cheers,  
> Edmond
> 
> Maroon 5 - Can't Stop  
> Shawn Mullins - Rockabye  
> I'm pretty sure I only referenced two songs in there, but if you spot another that I've overlooked, please let me know and I credit the artist.


End file.
